Tom - I love the pairing of the Wooden Boy poem (new to me) with the Bearwood High Street corner photo. The photo reminds me a bit of a recent Ken Jacobs film I saw at MOMA: Waiting for the Broadway Bus. KJ made it in real time at night with a small digital video camera: lots of blurring, swirling lights.

Thanks to all on behalf of Wooden Boy and the people and photographers of South West Birmingham. A fierce loyalty to the place is what they have in common.

Yes, Vassilis, Duncan's work sets the gold standard. Any condition.

David, I fear it's a losing battle, with few allies. Still we persist -- the forlorn hope.

(I notice the Birmingham Outer Ring buses run every eight minutes. We have something like that here too... only it's more like every eight days.)

Simon, those lines you've quoted drew me into this poem straight off. Apart from the subtle brilliance of the internal and off-rhyming, "strewn / with bruised fruit" could apply in some other dimensions as well.

Very sorry to hear about your mother. Strokes and yours truly, a connection more intimate than bears relating. So, much sympathy, and I do hope she gets through it.

Of course being such a small country Tom an effective public transport system is more feasible in the UK Arguably there is more demand and expectation for it being somewhat affordable and effective there Cities do better Many of the buses and bus routes between towns have been axed over the decades Nothing can compete with the private box on 4 wheels it would appear You have your own axe to grind where that is concerned I understand I didn't drive before coming to the US I held out til I was 45